


eight bells ringing

by WhirlyBird70



Series: let the endless dream guide your restless spirit [14]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Marineford, Pain!!!, hahahahaha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26640553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhirlyBird70/pseuds/WhirlyBird70
Summary: Marco learned to heal, once, by a doctor's skilled hands. Then he learned again, in the blue fire of a phoenix fruit.But he still couldn't save his brothers.-for minchen0897's prompt:Marco is Moby Dick's Doctor right? And Thatch was attacked on the Moby Dick and died? Depending on how heartbreaking things can be, Thatch died under Marco's hands. (Do you hear that? It was my heart shattering)
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco & Portgas D. Ace, Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco & Thatch
Series: let the endless dream guide your restless spirit [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605946
Comments: 3
Kudos: 65
Collections: Excellent Completed Gen & Platonic Fiction





	eight bells ringing

Marco is woken to bells ringing loud and relentless throughout the night. It is not the usual bell for time keeping, soft and melodious and as constant as the sea. No.

This one is _violent._

An alarm.

 _Fuck_ – it’s the alarm bell.

In an instant, Marco is out of his hammock, blue-gold fire streaming after him as he erupts out of the cabin.

What could be happening? There’s no enemy pinging in his senses, no ships nearby or unfamiliar person on the ship. What could have –

Pops.

_Pops._

He couldn’t have died, right?

The phoenix burns at his skin and he shifts, blurring into flame and fury as he soars down the hall in smaller, faster form. He has to get too Pops, he has too, he –

The crowd isn’t by Pops room. The yelling isn’t coming from there. The tears aren’t coming from there.

No – it’s – _No-_

_Its Thatch._

Marco changes direction, wings scorching lines into the Moby Dick’s Adam wood, and races back down the hallway.

 _Thatch –_ what could have happened?

In seconds, minutes, moments, all time flashes by the same when he’s made of burning flame – he’s by Thatch’s room and breaking through the crowd.

His first thought is there’s blood.

So, so much _blood,_ red and viscous and splattering along the floors. Marco is used to seeing blood.

Just not in his _home._

His second thought, as he follows the blood upwards, is that he knows the body which is coming from.

Thatch is always so _careful_ not to get blood on his white chef’s outfit. Its his mark in battle – red everywhere but the white. Marco had always teased him for it.

Now… Now its covered in red. There is no white in sight.

Only Thatch’s chest, barely moving, up, down, up, down, dark and red.

But he’s _breathing._

“Thatch!” Marco cries, and he’s on his knees by Thatch, whoever it was with him in the first place moving aside.

(Ace.

It was Ace.

And Ace was _crying.)_

Marco is a doctor – the ship’s doctor, the one in charge of Whitebeard, the one who disappeared for a year and came back with the knowledge to keep his beloved family alive – and this is his _job._

To save his family.

To save _Thatch._

But as he moves aside the bunched shirt to get a look at the stab wound, he knows it’s far too late.

(Its not a term any pirate should ever think. But now, Marco isn’t a pirate. He’s a _brother._

And fate holds to much pressure on his shoulders for him to think otherwise.)

“ _Thatch –“_ Ace’s voice is breaking beside them, his arms reaching down and hovering uselessly around Thatch’s body as Marco works to do something, _anything_ to help Thatch last a little long, so too late becomes not late enough. Ace’s arms are covered in blood, Marco belatedly notes. He must have been the first to find Thatch dyi- bleeding. _Hurt_.

(Maybe, if Marco keeps denying it, the truth will change.)

“Thatch-“ Ace tries again, and it hurts, it really does. “Thatch who _did_ this to you?” The anger in Ace’s voice hurts even more.

Thatch turns his head, only a little bit, glassy eyes flickering to all their siblings past them. “Teach.” He says, blood flicking out of his mouth as he does so. “Bastard. Wanted the fruit.” He coughs then, but his eyes don’t stop watching all of them, drinking his family in one last time.

(Marco knows Whitebeard won’t get here in time to say farewell to his beloved son.)

Ace’s eyes cloud with anger, but a bloody hand slaps at him, grabbing his attention. “A…Ace.” Thatch says, and Marco watches, and wonders which word will be Thatch’s last. “Don’t.”

He doesn’t say what Ace shouldn’t do. His breath is becoming rapid, stuttering, faltering. There are tears in Marco’s eyes.

“I’m… happy…” Thatch stutters out, thoughts of traitors in their family not mattering to him. He’s _happy._

Marco isn’t. He _isn’t._

_Damnit._

“Love… you… all.” Thatch says, and he smiles, with blood coating each tooth. His hair is a mess. Marco should tease him. He should.

But there’s blood between his fingers as blue flames burst forth, trying to heal, heal, heal, but phoenix fire doesn’t burn family and it doesn’t _cauterize_ – and Marco needs to awaken this right now, like he hasn’t cared before but –

Thatch breathes in, breathes out, and doesn’t breath again.

There’s a smile on his face as his skin grows cold.

And Marco has never heard something more terrible than the screams that come from his own mouth.

(That night, Marco stands watch as eight bells ring throughout the night. Eight bells for the end. Eight bells for a sailor gone home.

Eight bells ringing out, as Thatch drops to the sea in a cannon laden hammock, a brother lost forever.

Marco hates the sound of bells, and hates his hands that cannot save anything but a few mere moments to say goodbye.)

-

There are no bells at Marineford. No, those come after.

Now, there is blood and the sound of canon fire. Now, there is death of a thousand beloved brothers that Marco can’t save with healing hands, and now, there is fire and light clashing in the sky.

Now, Marco watches seastone be slapped upon his wrists, and his brother take a fist through the chest right in front of him.

After Thatch, Marco worked again, worked to learn, to heal.

The phoenix means _life. Rebirth._

_Healing._

And Marco can do that now – he is the awakened phoenix. He can heal so much more than himself, than what he could with a mere doctor’s hands.

But he can’t do that with this _sea-stone –_

Another brother he couldn’t save. Another brother who died smiling. Another brother who said _I love you,_ and _I was happy,_ as he died because of wound to the back by a traitor to everything the world held dear.

Marco rings the eight bells twice after Marineford, once his father and once brother, and knows they mean an era ended, not an era began.

A farewell, to his family _._

Marco _hates_ bells.

(But then Monkey D. Luffy rings in a new era, and maybe he doesn’t hate the ringing so much anymore. Not when it means a new era in the hands of a _king.)_

**Author's Note:**

> eight bells: a naval euphemism for finished, often used at sea burials. It is symbolic of the end of the watch, midnight, and the end of the year. 
> 
> sorry for not updating last night like i said i would (on tumblr i think?? idk.) life gets shitty sometimes. 
> 
> BUT ANYWAY. MARCO FEELINSG. i had more for this but in the end it didnt flow right so we get nice and short one!
> 
> thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed this story! sorry for the wait minchen dgfhjk
> 
> -
> 
> whirly
> 
> [My Tumblr!](https://whirlybirdwhat.tumblr.com)


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